


If only you meant it

by I_bite_my_thumb_at_thee



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Geraskier, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, pining Geralt, they are idiots someone please help them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:53:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27272986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_bite_my_thumb_at_thee/pseuds/I_bite_my_thumb_at_thee
Summary: Jaskier keeps telling Geralt that he loves him. And Geralt -like the idiot that he is- keeps thinking that Jaskier is only joking.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 80
Kudos: 416





	If only you meant it

„You may now kiss the bride.”

It took all of Geralt’s self-restraint not to groan, when the old lady standing in front of him and Jaskier slightly turned towards them and whispered audibly “When they told us that they had fallen in love at first sight, no one believed them. And now look at them! Getting married!” 

Geralt didn’t answer. What even was he supposed to say? He doubted any cynicism about falling out of love as quickly as falling into it would be appreciated and he had nothing more personal to say. After all, he didn’t even know the couple. The only reason he even was at the wedding, was because Jaskier had dragged him here with the promise of wine. And because of the fact that it would make Jaskier happy. Seeing Jaskier smile and dance would make up for the people looking at Geralt like he was out of place here. Which he was. 

Thankfully, he was spared having to answer, because Jaskier did it for him. 

“It is terribly romantic.” He turned to Geralt with a bright smile and a twinkle in his eyes. “Say, do you believe in love at first sight, Geralt?”

This time, the reaction couldn’t be supressed. Multiple people threw him dirty looks as he snorted. 

“Absolutely not.” Jaskier gasped, clearly affronted, and just to see his reaction, Geralt added “Lust, sure. Some affection, maybe. But falling in love within minutes of meeting someone just sounds shallow and like something only idiots would do.” 

“Are you saying _I_ am an idiot then?” Jaskier challenged with a lifted chin. 

“Definitely.” 

Geralt’s lips twitched upwards as Jaskier tried to not show his outrage too loudly, lest the festivities would be disturbed. 

“You!” He stage-whispered and stabbed an accusatory finger at Geralt’s chest. “You are impossible! And just for the record, you were supposed to ask ‘why’.”

Geralt lifted his eyebrows, lips still curled into a teasing smile that no one but Jaskier would notice.

“Why?” 

“Because I happen to have fallen in love at first sight,” Jaskier said triumphantly. 

“Like I said, you are an idiot for it.”

“Oh?” Jaskier asked, a grin spreading over his face, making him look like a cat that knew it would get away with stealing the cream. “Even if I told you that it is _you_ I fell in love with not even a day after I met you in Posada?” 

Geralt huffed, ignoring how his heart skipped a beat. “If that were true, you would be even more of a fool.” 

Jaskier certainly hadn’t fallen in love with Geralt. At most, he had been a duckling following the first thing it saw. Between the punch and almost getting him killed, Geralt had done nothing that would make anyone -least of all Jaskier- fall in love with him. 

For some unexplainable reason, the thought tasted bitter. 

He turned away from Jaskier, his big blue eyes and that cheeky smile suddenly too much for him. 

“Oh,” Jaskier said quietly. There was an awkward pause, in which Geralt could feel Jaskier’s eyes on him. “You don’t need to be grumpy about it. You know I was only joking, don’t you?”

Geralt grunted. Of course he knew it was a joke. With an unsettling feeling spreading thought his chest, he realised that maybe that was exactly the problem. It didn’t matter. Geralt wouldn’t let it bother him.

\--

It was bothering him. Not that first time; he could have just ignored that and gone on with his life. But it kept happening. The words were always accompanied by a nudge in the ribs, laughter or that exaggerated cheeriness in Jaskier’s voice.

When they parted ways for the winter, Jaskier said in his overdramatic fashion “The only thing keeping me warm in the winter will be my love for you.” 

His tongue peeked out between his lips and his grin was as mischievous as could be. Geralt had left quicker than intended, only so he could get away from the joke that hurt more than it should.

\--

When Geralt decided to safe a family from a cockatrice, even though they couldn’t pay, Jaskier looked at him with a smile that was far too wide to be genuine. 

“See, that’s why I love you!”

\--

When Geralt listened to Jaskier rant about Valdo Marx for the tenth time in a week it happened again. 

“Listen, Jaskier, I don’t know about music, but the one time I heard him play, I pretended that there was a monster nearby that I needed to hunt just so I would get out of listening to him. So stop worrying. You are much better than him.”

Jaskier stared at him with a slightly open mouth for a moment, before that grin split his face. Dread settled in Geralt’s stomach. He knew that expression. He tried to brace himself, but Jaskier’s words, spoken with too much enthusiasm and accompanied with a wink that marked them as a joke, still hurt Geralt like the blow of a sword. 

“Have I ever told you that I love you?”

Too many times. And not once actually meaning it. 

\--

“Say, Geralt, why are you not in a relationship?”

Geralt paused sharpening his sword and looked up to where Jaskier was leaning against a tree. “That’s a stupid question.”

“That may be, but it is a sincere question.” 

For once, Jaskier actually sounded serious. Still, Geralt didn’t know what he should say. The truth? That there was no one who would be foolish enough to want to be with a witcher? Surely, Jaskier knew that himself. It’s not that Geralt minded not having anyone who loved him in that way. It was better like this. 

That is… he hadn’t minded. It was easy not thinking about how no one wanted him, when he wasn’t interested in anyone either. It was a different story, when there was someone who Geralt wished would like him back. It was a different story, when the one holding Geralt’s heart was staring at him, head cocked to the side and asking him about his love life. It was different, when the one person Geralt loved thought it was funny to declare their undying love for him over and over and never truly mean it. 

He couldn’t say any of that. So instead he did what he always did. He grunted and left Jaskier to interpret it however he wanted. 

“You haven’t been seeing anyone either for a while,” Geralt added as an afterthought. 

“And what a shame that is.” Jaskier came closer, crouching down next to Geralt, making it impossible for Geralt to evade his eyes and his foreboding grin. “You know what? Let’s make a deal. If we both are still single a year from now on, we will get married. Love at first sight ending in marriage is always wonderful material for a song.”

Geralt couldn’t repress the scowl. “You would do that for a song?” He willed his voice to be even, but he knew there was a bitterness to the words that Jaskier couldn’t miss. He ignored Jaskier’s stammered excuses. “It’s a stupid deal. I doubt you won’t have found a new paramour in a day or two anyway.”

“No need to get snappish,” Jaskier said with a smile, but his voice sounded tight as he stood back up. “I was just joking.” 

Jaskier didn’t laugh at his own joke. Instead he looked almost crestfallen. No wonder. Geralt knew all too well the feeling of making an unappreciated joke. Inwardly he sighed. Still he cracked a smile, hoping it would at least make Jaskier think he had been funny. 

\--

“I honestly don’t know how you managed to put up with Geralt for so long. I only spend the winter with him and that’s almost enough to drive me crazy,” Lambert said and downed the rest of his drink. 

Jaskier only laughed. 

Geralt’s nervousness when he had seen Lambert enter the tavern had quickly changed into annoyance. It seemed all of his worries that he and Jaskier wouldn’t get along and that Jaskier might even get offended by Lambert being, well, Lambert, were entirely unfounded. 

They were already on their third round and getting along well. Too well, maybe. 

“You know, songbird, I like you.” Lambert’s words made Gerlt clench his jaw. “If you ever grow tired of Geralt” - Geralt didn’t need the reminder. As if he didn’t think of that possibility every day- “you can always travel with me instead.”

Geralt’s grip around his tankard tightened, his knuckles going white. His throat became tight as he awaited – dreaded – Jaskier’s answer. 

Jaskier reached out and patted Lambert’s hand. 

“Thank you for the offer,” he said with a chirpy laugh. “but you see, I can’t just leave Geralt. He is the love of my life after all.”

Geralt closed the eyes when Lambert snorted. For a moment he wondered whether it might have been less painful if Jaskier had instead agreed to go with Lambert. 

\--

“What do you mean you have something for me?” Jaskier asked, brows furrowed, but a spark of curiosity in his eyes. “I thought we were low on coin?”

They were. But when they had gone to the market earlier that day and Jaskier had stood in front of the stall selling inks in pretty bottles it had sent a pang through Geralt’s chest, when Jaskier had sighed and his longing look had turned into disappointment. 

“I am going on a hunt tomorrow morning. It’ll bring in enough coin to make up for this.” He held the beautifully crafted inkwell out for Jaskier to take. 

Jaskier’s eyes lit up and he held it like it was the most precious thing he owned. 

“Blue ink? It must have been expensive.”

It had been. But it matched Jaskier’s eyes. It had been a stupid impulse, but Geralt hadn’t been thinking clearly, the memory of Jaskier’s earlier disappointment still nagging at his mind. 

Geralt grunted. “Use it to write some more songs that get us coin and it will have been worth it.”

It already was, if only for the brilliant smile Jaskier sent his way. 

“Thank you so much, Geralt. Really.” He took one of Geralt’s hands in his and squeezed it gently. Warmth spread through Geralt from where they touched. “I will start performing right away. I just need a drink first.” Jaskier paused, a soft look stealing its way into his eyes. “Really, Geralt, you can’t just do such nice things for me and expect my heart to be able to handle it.”

Geralt’s throat tightened. He wanted to say something, but this was too close already. Anything Geralt would say now could easily make Jaskier turn this into a joke again and Geralt desperately wanted to keep this moment as it was, with Jaskier being happy and not making fun of what he could never truly feel for Geralt. 

So instead of saying anything that could cut the threat that kept this conversation genuine, he nodded in the direction of their room. 

“You go drink and sing. I’ll get some rest.” Did he imagine the look of disappointment flashing over Jaskier’s face? “I’ll need to get up early tomorrow if I want to be done with the contract by nightfall.” 

After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, plagued by the memory of Jaskier’s hand in his, he had finally drifted off to sleep. He hadn’t even woken up when Jaskier had eventually gone to bed. Just as Jaskier didn’t wake up when Geralt left the room now. 

Finding the monster wasn’t hard, but the cold winds marking the coming end of autumn were making it hard to keep his hands steady on Roach’s reins. Geralt cursed under his breath. Fighting with cold hands was always a bother and he had hoped it would be a few more weeks before the cold would settle over the land. A few more weeks he would be able to spend at Jaskier’s side. 

The wind picked up and Geralt let go of the reins, trusting Roach to find her way without his guidance and buried his hands deep in the pockets of his cloak in hopes of giving them some warmth at least. What he found instead was paper. 

He frowned, producing the thing that someone must have stuck into his pockets without him noticing. It was a letter, slightly crumpled up and smelling distinctly of Jaskier and something bitter.

Geralt halted Roach and stared at the paper for a long moment, before finally unfolding it. 

The letter was unmistakably written by Jaskier – in blue ink – though the writing looked nothing like the elegant notes he usually wrote. No, it looked sloppy. Rushed? Maybe even nervous? 

If so, then surely Jaskier couldn’t have been as nervous as Geralt was now, reading the letter. 

_My dearest,  
There is something I need to tell you before we have to separate for the winter again. Something I have told you many times already, but you never believed me. I hope you believe me now, when I don’t have anything but my words to mess this up.  
I love you, Geralt. I have loved you for years and I will continue to do so.  
I know that you don’t feel the same way and if this makes you uncomfortable, we can pretend I never wrote this.  
To be honest, I am not even sure why I am writing this. But I know what I feel for you.  
With all my love,  
Jaskier _

Geralt’s heart skipped a beat. He read over the lines again and again, unable to comprehend. This couldn’t be a joke. Jaskier wouldn’t be so cruel as to immortalize such a lie in a letter. He asked Geralt to believe him. And he did. For the first time, Geralt believed him. Fuck, how often had Geralt misinterpreted what Jaskier had said? How often had he dismissed Jaskier’s confession, thinking it had been a joke?

He folded the letter, trying to get rid of all the creases and put it back in his pockets. 

The hunt couldn’t be over fast enough. The ride back must be exhausting for Roach, but Geralt burned with the need to see Jaskier, to talk to him, to please hear him say that he had meant what he had written in the letter. 

As soon as he opened the door to their room, all words he could have said, left him. There was Jaskier, sitting on the bed, plucking the strings of his lute, crafting some new melody. He was beautiful. How was Geralt supposed to talk to him about the letter? How was he supposed to find the words when nothing could be enough to describe how much it meant to him just seeing Jaskier lift his head and light up at the sight of Geralt. 

“Geralt, you’re back!” He put his lute to the side and looked Geralt over, like he always did when he had been fighting. He looked so…normal. Nothing in his behaviour implied that he was in any way nervous about the letter he had slipped Geralt when he must have been asleep. 

Geralt swallowed. _If this makes you uncomfortable, we can pretend I never wrote this._

Of course. Jaskier had taken the first step. More than a step really. Jaskier had run a mile in writing the letter. It was on Geralt now to meet him halfway. If only he knew how to broach the subject.

Jaskier filled the silence, before Geralt got a chance to find the right words. 

“How did it go? Did anything interesting happen on the hunt?” 

This was it. The opening he had been waiting for and the obvious hint that Jaskier wanted to talk about what he had written. 

“Yes,” Geralt said. “Something quite interesting.” 

He reached inside his pockets. He held the letter out to Jaskier with a small smile on his face. 

Jaskier’s curiosity slowly transformed into confusion and then into recognition and horror. 

“Oh shit.” It was barely more than a whisper. His eyes snapped up to Geralt’s, wide open and panicking. “You didn’t actually read that, did you? I… shit, I didn’t think I was actually gone enough to write that.” Jaskier’s hands started to fidget and his heartbeat became frantic. “Fuck. I was really, really drunk when I wrote that. Can you please forget about it?”

Geralt’s blood ran cold. He didn’t even notice his hand starting to tremble, until he felt the paper rip in his tight grip. 

The sloppy handwriting. The bitter smell – alcohol. The way the paper had been crumpled-up in his pockets. The distinct lack of poetry. Jaskier would never write a letter – a love letter no less – this carelessly when he was sober. 

Bitterness rose in Geralt’s throat. 

“So you didn’t mean it?” His voice was tight and he was barely able to get the words past the lump in his throat.

Jaskier gave him a chipped smile. Every moment now he would open his mouth and double down on that fucking joke that ripped Geralt’s heart into pieces. He wouldn’t be able to handle hearing it again.

“Please, Jaskier, don’t. I can’t keep doing this. It was funny the first time around, but since then it had become worse with every time you say it.”

“Oh.” Jaskier’s fragile smile crumbled, leaving him looking broken and hurt. “I am sorry. I didn’t know it made you that uncomfortable.” He let out a hollow laugh. “I figured that if you thought it was just a joke, it would be alright for me to say it. I am sorry. I won’t say it again.”

This was good. Geralt would finally be free of having to hear Jaskier make fun of Geralt’s feelings. Except…something didn’t add up. 

“What do you mean, if I _thought_ it was a joke?”

Jaskier tensed. His tongue licked nervously over his lips and his eyes flitted about the room, trying desperately to evade Geralt. 

“I just… I thought I was good at hiding how I felt. I thought I would be fine pretending. But then you just have to be so _you_ and do these things that just make it impossible not to tell you. Saying it and having you think I didn’t mean it was better than not saying it at all.” He hesitated, his eyes finally settling back on Geralt, who could do nothing but stare at him. “Can I… Can I say it just one more time? Just this once with both of us knowing that I mean it? And then I promise you I will never say it again.”

Geralt’s mouth went dry. There were to many thoughts racing in his head, trying to understand, trying to find a way in which he could have possibly misread what Jaskier had just been saying. He couldn’t risk getting his heart even more broken over one more stupid misunderstanding. And yet….

“What if I don’t want you to?” He asked carefully, not daring to hope. 

“Oh.” Jaskier’s face fell. “Yeah, no, of course. I won’t say it. Sorry, forget I ever asked.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Geralt took a shuddering breath. “What if I don’t want you to stop saying it? What if… what if I would say it back?”

Jaskier’s hands twitched and for a heartbeat he didn’t say anything, before he finally whispered “Would you?”

“Yes.” 

A smile broke through the uncertainty and a laugh bubbled up in Jaskier. A genuine, nervous laugh that was nothing like the one he usually used when saying the words. 

“I love you, Geralt.” 

It was no joke. There was no exaggerated wink, no nudge in the ribs, no reassurance that he didn’t mean it. Just hope and a smile that widened when Geralt finally said it back. 

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> You must have some review for me. Three words or less ;)
> 
> Say hi on tumblr @flowercrown-bard


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